


The Damn Gift

by chocolattefrog



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:08:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24519721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolattefrog/pseuds/chocolattefrog
Summary: This is the very same story (The Damn gift) but not in the typeset, to let no-english people easily translate the text. Enjoy!
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 8





	1. P R O L O G U E

P R O L O G U E

Alihotsy," said Ermyntrude Rowle fondly, waving a bunch of leaves in front of her friend's face. "Also known as the Hyena tree," she theatrically put a piece of plant in her mouth and started chewing.

Tonks' eyebrows rised.

"That's pretty... reckless," A pink hair girl sighed heavily. "Gimme one."

Feeling already giggly, Rowle looked around and took out another item, hidden behind the column: a little phial filled with colourless liquid. Seeing the question being written all over Nymphadora's face, she explained quickly:

"Chortle extract."

"Should I ask...?"

"Snape's supplies," Ermyne shrugged a bit uncontrollably, trying to restrain laughter. Layers of her dress robes rustled gently. "Aaaaand —"

"...and something from Filch's supplies," a cheerful voice suddenly came from behind their backs.

Girls simultaneously turned back and saw Penny Haywood, smiling triumphantly and holding a large bottle of Fire Whisky.

Tonks snatched the flask out of her friend's hands, eagerly uncorked and started gulping a deep gold, almost mahogany spirit.

"They catch us and we're dead," she muttered and quickly took another sip. "You know that."

They could all hear a loud music and amused students' voices coming out from the castle. Ambushing together on the stairs, which leaded to the Boathouse, and covered by a balustrade, girls had a perfect view on the whole Entrance Courtyard. A perfect hidding spot for a group of friends, taking a break from all that party bustle in The Great Hall.

While two Huffelpuffs were enjoying the burning bliss of the Fire Whisky, Ermyntrude sprinkled another alihotsy leaf with a few drops of chortle extract and munched it covetously.

"Not bad," she professed with the face of an expert. "Not bad at all... Then, toast to the Ridiculous Girl's Names Club — and you Penny!"

The booze made its work — all three girls become suspiciously relaxed before the Weird Sisters managed to finish a "Do the Hippogriff" song. Sniggering repeatedly, they admired the distant, bathed by the brilliance of the moon, waters of the Black Lake. Penny put her head on Rowle's lap, humming softly the "Magic Works" lyrics along with the band. Although the air was quite chilly, intoxicated by banned substances students did not feel cold. Magic really worked that night.

"You think the bezoar will kill tommorow's hangover?" asked Ermyne, when the song ended. She pulled out an arm and showed her friends a small stone-like mass in her hand.

"If you put it in my mouth..." Tonks flinched. "I'm definitelly gonna puke, so yea — it may help."

"As I'm always thinking ahead," Rowle continued proudly, "I stole one from our Potions Master. This seemed like a good idea."

"To me stealing anything from our Potions Master seems like a very bad idea," said Penny.

They immediately jumped to their feet when Snape's cold voice came out from above their heads.

"Correct, Miss Haywood."

They surely should instantly start thinking of making up any kind of excuses, but there was only one word that came to their minds — a very nasty one.

"Fifty poins from Gryffindor," Snape said in his cold, sneering voice, looking at Ermyntrude. His black eyes narrowed. "And fifty points from Huffelpuff," he went on and turned to Tonks and Penny. "Each of you."

Girls inhaled sharply but said nothing. Snape's lip curled.

"Obviously, you not only violated several school rules," he pressed on, "but also the Department of Intoxicating Substances' main law, as you're underage. The decision of what kind of punishent you shall receive, unfortunatelly, does not rest with me — a detention or more likely expulshion."

Tonks started to think desperately. Professor Sprout would chide her students if necessary, but as she was a very maternal Head of House, there was a slight chance she would question the decision to expell her Huffelpuff pupils. The situation looked a lot gloomier for her Gryffindor friend — known for her strict sense of justice, Professor McGonagall sure will show no mercy...

Tonks glanced discreetly at Ermyntrude and abandoned all hope. Being not sure, whether it was due to intoxication or the natural cheerful disposition of the girl, Rowle looked absolutelly careless — standing all smiles, keeping on biting her lips softly.

"In this state, I believe," Snape slowly fixed his gaze upon Ermyne, "drawing any consequences would be a difficult and tedious task. Then, I'll just have to have a word with Headmaster myself and explain the situation," he raised a hand and made a impatient gesture. "To your beds. Now."

He turned, his dark robes billowing behind him. Girls obediently went after him to the Entrance Hall and split at the Grand Staircase — Tonks and Penny headed down to the The Hufflepuff Basement, exchanging fearfull looks, and Rowle started climbing up the stairway. But instead of going straight to the Gryffindor Tower, she made her way to the Trophy Room direction, ripped through a tapestry and found herself in a hidden passageway, leading to the third-floor. That way she could easily catch up with Snape, without chasing him and running out of breath.

"Which word didn't you understand," asked Potions Master, sneering, when he reached the top of third-floor stairs. His gaze lingered maliciously upon Ermyntrude, "in 'go to your bed' phrase?"

"That was my idea, sir," Rowle fired immediately. "I take all the blame."

"'You take all the blame'," repeated Snape sardonically. Girl opened her mouth, but he forestalled her. "Three of you participated in the act of school rules violation, so why would I punish only you, Rowle?"

"A month detension," she said in a begging voice. "Half a year detension? Or I'll just scrub all of your cauldrons without magic for the rest of my education here. But please..."

"I'm not going to change my mind at your bidding."

Snape passed Ermyn without a further comment.

"Have you never done anything stupid?" Gryffindor girl rapidly jumped to the teacher and seized his robes. "Really?"

"Manners, Rowle," said Snape dangerously. He slowly turned around to face Ermyntrude, frowning. For a split second his black eyes were fixed upon girls's almond-shaped, startlingly green ones. He had a sudden, most peculiar sensation somewhere around his midriff.

A floaty, silver-liliac material was gently wrapping a delicate, silky surface of Ermyn's shoulders. Somehow her skin seemed to unexpectedly shine moon-bright. Her thick, dark brown hair fell into her pointed chin, slightly undulating. Dissolved and wavy, made her look both cheeky and innocent. As if in a daze Snape stared at her tiny but round bust. His mind had gone blissfully blank. Everything turned blurry, exept for that unreal creature, standing in front of him, still holding his robe.

"S-sir?"

He blinked. When his vision got clear, he noticed a very eident blush on girl's cheeks. She was looking down, with an embarrassed expression, as she could clearly see his erection pressing against the front of his trousers.

A flush suffused his pallid face. Snape immediatly caught hold of her wrists and removed her clutching hands from his robe with a jerk. She gasped quietly, then she stooped and slid off into a kneeling position at Snape's feet. Something like a grin flitted across her face. She looked up right into the Potions Master's black eyes. With her mouth slightly open, she sticked out her tounge a bit and licked a bulge on his trousers playfully. She giggled.

"Stop it!" said Snape at once, though desired the opposite.

Managed to pull her hand free from his weakening grip, she smoothly unzipped the pants and released his engorged dick. A weird heat spread across her body. Unable to contain, she seized his penis and pressed her lips to it. Feeling its warmth, enjoying it, she teased for a while.

Snape moaned softly when she finally put the whole thing in her mouth. Shivers crossed his skin, starting from loins and got right to every piece of his body. He should do something, resist. Yet at this very moment nothing mattered, but a bliss coming from every move of a girl's head. She did it well, switching between sucking and licking... putting it deeply into her throat, despite the tears streaming down her pretty face...

Untill he fullfilled her mouth with his load.

_Celestial Ball, 1989_


	2. I

**\- I -**

Preparations for the Celestial Ball were almost done. Small rosebushes of all colours had been attached to the banisters of the marble staircase; the whole Ground Floor was bedecked with thousands and thousands of luminous, sparkling little rhinestone stars that were floating in midair. Instead of usual candles, The Great Hall was full of glowing planets, spinning slowly in a disco ball style. Even the Weird Sisters — a popular school band — had been requested to make a performance during the celebration.

"Who are you going to the ball with, Ermy?" Tonks inquired curiously, as she and her friend sat side by side at Huffelpuff table.

"I haven't asked anyone yet," Ermyntrude shrugged.

"Ask?" Tonks repeated with a suprised voice. "With all your seductive veela-wiles you could easily make any handome guy coming with you."

"You mean my totally watered down, tiny drop of less than one-hundredth of half-veela blood?" Ermyn snotred. "I don't even look like one."

"Oh, it's just so the rest of us could stand a chance of getting a boyfriend," said Tonks humorously, patting her on the arm. "Honestly, you're one of the prettiest girls in the year — with or without white-gold hair. L-u-c-k-y."

"Said a witch, who can change her appearance at _will_!" stroke back Ermyntrude and burst out laughing, though friend's words made her actually kind of annoyed.

Ever since she could remember, she was nothing more but a cute face. People were often indulgent towards her, treating her like a mascot, as she liked making silly jokes and behaving kind of like a puppy in public. Family never expected her to achieve an exceptional performance in class and just 'settle down with some wealthy, pure-blood wizard' as her mother used to say.

Ermyn didn't ever complain or show any sign of feeling uneasy being called good-looking, because she new noone would understand. Who'd cry over being a beauty, anyway?

"I'm not even sure if that 'veela-wiles' would actually work on..." Rowle's eyes suddenly focused on Penny, entering The Great Hall.

"Work on _whom_ exactly?" asked Nimphadora rapidly, looking around inquisitively.

Ermyn didn't anwsered, blushing all of a sudden. She truned her face, not to betray a hint of embarrassment to her friends.

"What's up ladies?" Penny sat in front of them, smilling widely. "Ready to party?"

"Very ready and very solo!" said Tonks brightly, knocking over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the table. "Oh no — _sorry_ —"

Penny quickly picked the newspaper up, before it got stained orange. Noone really paid much attention to the havoc caused by Nimphadora anymore. Since the very first day of their friendship her clumsiness become an ubiquitous and unavoidable part of their lives.

"We must hurry up," Haywood said in a calm voice, ignoring still apologizing Tonks. "We start today with Potions — my favourite subject and my _least_ favourite teacher — so better not be late."

All three girls stood up and left the table. They rushed through the Great Hall, once more admiring stunning decorations.

"Charms," said Ermyntrude, lifting her finger and pointing up the Great Staircase.

Gryffindors and Huffelpuffs had Potions lessons separately — the complete opposite of what Rowle wished. She and Penny shared a strong interest in this branch of magic, even enjoyed brewing together experimental mixtures in their free time. It would be fun to join their potion-making talents in class.

She was walking past a stone gargoyle, deep in her own thoughts, when a hand popped out from behind the statue and grabbed hers, pulling gradually. Ermyn landed in a tight embrace of Jae Kim, her peer from Gryffindor house; a friend — or rather someone much more than a friend, but most definitelly less than a boyfriend. He pressed his lips to hers, now wrapping his arms around Rowle's slim waist. She didn't resist, just chuckled.

"Have you missed me?" asked Jae, not waiting for an anwser and quickly giving her another kiss.

"So cliché," she sighed heavily. "Hurry. We're gonna be late for Charms."

"Remember the days when we just skipped class and practised spells on our own with only one, special wand?" Boy made a dreamy face. "Seems as if only yesterday..."

"Yea 'cause it _was_ yesterday," said Ermyn, rolling her deeply green eyes. "And — oh my god — can you stop talking like a creep?"

"C'mon, don't you like my elaborate dirty talk?"

"A moodkiller."

They both chortled. After reaching the third floor they saw a completely deserted corridor - a clear sign that the lesson had already begun and they were supposed to move faster. Instead, Ermyntrude stopped Kim using a hand and fixed her gaze upon his eyes. "Anyway, we need to end this." she sounded serious. "I'm going to confess to Penny today."

His raised his eyebrows.

"Finally!" he called enthusiastically. "My little girl decided to make her move."

"I'll try," she declared, "But, you know, things like that are not easy..."

"Not as easy as it was with me?" he smirked.

"Well," Ermyn hesitated, "We're not —" she looked for the proper word, "— romantically involved."

Jae wrapped his arm around her shoulders and whispered into her ear:

"That's what makes this relationship _perfect_."

But she never had the courage to ask Penny out. Every time she glimpsed Haywood that day, blonde girl was surrounded by friends. And, by the end of a day it was all over — she was bound to have been asked by Bill Weasley, a handsome redhead from upper year.

Sittling in her favourite armchair, closest to the fireplace of the Gryffindor Common Room, and feeling like a failure, Ermyntrude decided to bury deep down this affection one and for all.

"I bet it didn't go very well." Jae jumped over the back of the armchair and seated himself next to her.

"It didn't go at all," said Ermyn glumly. "At all."

He sighed heavily and hugged her. Unfortunatelly, comforting others was never his forte.

"You know what helps me when I'm sad?" he put his hand unceremoniously on Rowle's tight and started moving it slowly uppward.

She ignored him.

"At least I managed to get this," she reached her pocket and took out a bunch of green-and-red spotted leaves.

"What's that?" Jae's hand stopped.

"Alihotsy."


	3. II

\- II -

I don't get it," whispered Tonks, as she and Penny walked out of the Potions classroom. "First, he wants to expell us, possibly execute in public or whip at least, inviting everyone to the show — even Minister for Magic himself — and now it's _just_ a month detention..."

"Right?" squealed Penny, frowning. "I don't think he even notified the other teachers — or Dumbledore."

They were climbing the steps out of the dungeon, looking out for Ermyntrude, as it was Gryffindors' time for potions lesson. Apparently, their friend was standing by the wall on the ground floor, clutching her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.

"It's okay, Emry," said Penny softly, stepping closer and making sure nobody could hear her. "A true miracle happened."

Rowle moved nervously. Tonks interpreted it on her own way.

"Relax girl," she patted her friend's shoulder, smiling. "Snape gave us a month detention. How lucky!"

"Yea, could've been a lot worse." Haywood added enthusiastically. "Somehow, he judged it as fair punishment. He must've been in a good mood today or..."

"Or got laid!" Tonks started giggling wildly.

Ermyn's face turned white but her friends were too excited to notice. Unexpectedly, even Penny laughed at this not particularly sophisticated joke, picturing McGonagall in the arms of Snape. She flinched.

"Anyway, you'd better go before the lesson begins," she encouraged Rowle, pushing her politely toward the dungeon entrance. "And don't worry!"

But Ermyntrude barely heared her, thinking hard. There was an obvious connection between Snape's merciful penalty and her getting way too much _friendly_ with him the other night. She wasn't sure she'd do it again, if the drugs and alkohol weren't involved, but there was no trauma to it. Just extremely awkward feeling.

The dungeon door opened. Snape appeared there. His black eyes swept up the students line, giving a place where Ermyn was standing a wide berth. Rowle followed Jae Kim and Ben Copper, and took her usual seat between them, three rows from teacher's desk. Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang — the moment the class had heard it, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped.

"Today we will be mixing a Befuddlement Draught." said Snape, sweeping over to his desk. "A potion which causes the drinker to become belligerent and reckless — instructions," he waved his wand, "on the board. Carry on."

So she gets to prepare ingredients on the same table, Ermyntrude set up her cauldron right next to Jae's, picked up her knife and immediately started slicing lovage. Her hands were shaking slightly, while shredding a plant carefully into exactly equal pieces. She found it hard to concentrate. A curious sensation filled her lower abdomen area, escalating sharply every time Snape was getting any closer. However, since the beginning of the lesson Potions Master seemed to avoid passing near or looking her direction.

She tipped the lovage into the cauldron and picked up some of dried stems on the left.

"Ermy!" hissed Jae, grabbing his wrist to prevent her adding the ingredient. "Not the hole sneezewort!"

He poined at the blackboard with a subtle flick of his head. She rised her eyebrows, looking at the instructions as if she only now realized what was written there. Using a mortar, she reduced dried plant to a very fine powder and then began to chop scurvy grass. She stired content of the cauldron thoughtlessly.

"An emerald vapor should now be rising from your potion," called Snape, with ten minutes left to go.

Ermyntrude was bending over her cauldron, thinking what she might have done incorrect — the potion was supposed to be dark green in colour, not acid lime like hers.

"What is wrong with you today?" asked Jae, staring at her cauldron in disbelief.

Being in a deep shock, she nervously packed unused ingredients away and went to wash her hands and ladles in the stone basin in the corner. How could she fail to concoct such an easy potion? That has never happened before to any of her mixtures, even a more difficult, fiddly ones.

Back at her table, having no other choice, she scooped some of the potion into a flask, corked it, and walked up to the front of the room for marking.

Sitting behind his desk, Snape for the first time glanced up at Ermyn. Their eyes met. Something really warm has spread throughout her body. Determined to withstand, she kept looking straight into his face, not even blinking once. Surprisingly, it made the teacher hastily drop his gaze. That felt truly weird but also... powerful. Like she had just won some kind of a battle.

"Rowle," said Snape, now staring at her flagon with an actuall confusion on his face. "What is this supposed to be?"

She blushed.

"A Befuddlement Draught." she muttered, loosing all that intense sense of domination at once.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" he said softly. "Then, you must've already drunk some — otherwise, you wouldn't dare to bring me this useless brew."

She could feel her face burning, hearing Slytherins' silent giggles behind her back. Desperately trying to got her confidence back, she lifted the flagon from his desk with two of her fingers. It would be insane to do the thing that she was strongly tempted to do. Unfortunatelly, the last life-lesson Snape had given her recently wasn't very educational — after all, she got away with stealing, taking drugs and drinking alkohol by giving him a blowjob.

"I just thought, I'd improve the formula," she said in a little more impudent voice than she intended. Her heart now pumping harder and faster than ever. "But if you don't like it..."

She dropped her sample on the floor. The glass smashed into pieces, the liquid has spilled, staining the dungeon floor.

Snape's expression was unfathomable for a while. His lip curled slowly, almost white with rage. He narrowed his black eyes, darting from Ermyn's broken flask to her face. Calculating.

"Detention, Saturday night, my office," he said in an ice-cold voice. "For starters."

The bell rang and everyone hurried out of the dungeon too terrified to even talk.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU TODAY?!" repeated Jae, panting, when he finnaly managed to got to Ermyn, as she stormed out of the classroom without a backward glance.

Still angry as hell, Rowle glared at him hostilely.

"I've got my reasons..." she muttered, giving him a vague answer.

"'Reasons'?!" A few drops of Kim's spit landed on her face. He was shaking from tension. "He can easily expell you!" he snapped his fingers. "Just like that!"

"No, he won't..." she said and quickly corrected herself, "He can't. I mean, Dumbledore —"

"Dumbledore is _not_ going to protect you!" he shouted. "Have you seen yourself? What's gotten into you?!"

Ermyntrude shrugged. Now, as she came to think of it, she might have overreacted a bit. Or a little bit too much. A lot, actually. She wasn't sure what made her so furious. A spoiled potion? Snape's taunt? Slytherins' giggles? Her wounded pride? Or maybe a loss of control? This sweet n' spicy feeling of domination rapidly — nearly forcibly — taken away from her?

But Jae was right — she never behaved like that. The reputation of troublemaker had stuck to her since her very first day in Hogwarts, but it was mostly a harmless prankster kind of fuss — not a daredavil-suicidal shouting and provoking teachers one.

Ermyn was in a starnge mood since the night of the Celestial Ball. She never felt like this before. The way Snape was looking at her... Suddenly entirely overpowered, completely unable to resist her... her charm? Like a veela-charm?

She wasn't kidding, talking with Tonks — indeed, her ancestor was a veela — but it was very long time ago. Nine generations at least. How could've she inherited any magical ability from such diluted blood. The gene simply couldn't persist.

Nevertheless, something happened that night, something that finally could give her a full control over her life. A new exciting capability that may let her stop being just a pretty doll, but making her the puppeteer.


	4. III

\- III -

The rumor has spread across the Hogwarts in a flash. On the next day, the whole school knew exactly what happened in the Potions classroom, plus some extra, as gossip-makers added a few spicy pieces to the story.

"You only had one job," said Tonks, speaking very slowly in a condescending tone. "NOT to make Snape any more angrier. What went wrong?"

Ermyn gave a halfhearted shrug.

"I lost my cool," she mumbled, fixing her gaze on on the lawn on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Seems like you lost your _mind_!" snarled Tonks indignantly. "Tell her! Tell her, Penny."

But her Huffelpuff friend didn't say a word, looking very concerned. The Care of Magical Creatures was about to start. The class gathered around a long trestle table, where Professor Kettleburn was trying to arrange in line seven big cat-like animals.

"Everyone here?" asked the teacher, once all the Huffelpuffs and Gryffindors had arrived. "Splendid, now who can tell me what these creatures are called?"

A hand of Rowan Khanna shot into the air.

"Kneazles," she said.

"Five points for Gryffindor," said Professor Kettleburn in an enthusiastic voice. "Yes, these are Kneazles — A magical beasts, classified as XXX by the Ministry of Magic!"

"They should make a similar ranking for insane witches," Tonks narrowed her eyes maliciously, glancing at Ermyn.

"Kneazles have a very high level of intelligence, are independent and occasionally aggressive," Professor Kettleburn continued his speech. "Also, they have an uncanny ability to detect suspicious and distrustful people."

Ermyntrude could literally feel the displeasure of Tonks — girl was standing right behind her, breathing down her neck furiously and so loud, that Rowle could hardly hear the lecture.

"So if they like a witch or wizard this creatures can make excellent pets, although owners are required to have a licence..."

"They should be such licence for you!" Nymphadora hissed right into Ermyn's ear.

"Give-me-a-break!" red on her face, Ermyn turned abruptly around.

Apparently, Tonks must have been seriously angry — her hair has changed its colour from bubblegum pink to scarlet.

"If you'd like to gather closer," said Professor Kettleburn, "take a piece of meat and invite a Kneezle to your table — I have enough here for one between three — you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labeled by the end of the lesson."

While Ermyn and Tonks were squaring up to each other, Penny took a large steak from the basket and offered it to the nearest Kneazle.

"Please, stop this childlish nonsense," she said in a tired voice, now stroking the animal under its chin.

The beast closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it. When Penny straightened up and rushed toward their table, it stretched its back slowly and followed her with absolutely no haste.

"Maybe a little bit faster?" said Ermyn sarcasticly, passing a huge cat.

Kneazle's eyes narrowed slightly, sending a girl a look full of disdain. When it finally got to the place, in one bouncy jump landed gracefully on the table and sat down in a proud manner. Penny rewarded the beast with a treat. Everyone rolled up their sleeves, then pulled out parchments and quills and started drawing.

"We were supposed to visit Zonko's this weekend..." Tonks proceed to wail. "All _three_ of us..."

Rowle was making a great effort ignoring her friend's mocking and focused on sketch. She tried to perfectly recreate a spotted fur of an animal on her drawing, but instead she made a couple of large ink stains. Feeling rising irritation, she crumpled up the paper and started all over again. Kneazle was watching the students, pricking his large ears, its tail up, swishing gently back and forth, casting a distracting shadow on Ermyntrude's parchment. Girl moved a bit, so nothing would block the sunlight. Her sketch was almost done — she put it on the table and reached to her bag for a small jar of pounce.

_THUD_

"Oh no — sorry —"

Ermyn quickly raised her head, already knowing what she was about to see. Her drawing was flooded with black liquid coming out from a inkwell being knocked over.

"Sorry, sorry, _sorry_..." Tonks rushed to save the drawing, but it was obviously too late. "I didn't mean to..."

"Gimme that," Rowle angrily ripped the ruined sketch from her friend's hands and throw it away.

Panting, she took out another sheet and began to smear rapidly on it with a quill, hearing Nymphadora apologizing over and over again.

"Shut it!" Ermyntrude snapped impatiently.

Kneazle moved nervously, having ears back and flat against its head. Both Huffelpuffs looked at their friend's mad face agitated.

"You don't have to be mean," muttered Tonks. "I didn't do that on purpose..."

"Yea, but you did moan all the morning about my saturday detention even if it isn't any concern of yours!" spat Ermyn on a single breather.

"I'm your friend! Of course I'm worried!"

"Worried about me or worried about visiting Zonko's on your own?" sneered Rowle. "That's your biggest problem, huh? You almost got expelled, you should be thankful —"

She bit her tounge, realizing she nearly said too much. Ignoring Penny and Tonks, she quickly returned to sketching. The beast's tail cast a disruptive shadow over her parchment again, moving this time rapidly back and forth. Its end bottle-brushed.

"Hold. It. Still!" Ermyn grabbed Kneazle's tail furiously.

There was a sudden and loud hissing sound.

Taking a very deep breath, Ermyntrude knocked the door to Snape's office and entered.

It was a shadowy room lined with shelves bearing hundreds of glass jars in which floated slimy bits of animals and plants, suspended in variously colored potions.

"Shut the door behind you, Rowle." said Snape without looking up, sitting behind his desk. "You will be," he paused, " _scratching_ cauldrons. I want all of them polished to high gloss. No need to use magic."

"I'm afraid, I'm not able to do that."

He looked up at her, now noticing bandages wrapped around her right hand.

"What is that?" he asked coldly.

"A lesson." she said bitterly, then smirked. "Which makes no hard work for ths girl tonight."

Snape stared at her for a few moments, tracing his mouth with his finger. When he spoke again, it was slowly and deliberately, as though he weighed every word.

"You might be under the delusion that this _fraternization_ ," Snape laid a delicate stress on the word. "Made us equal."

"Not equal," she said contemptuously. "I obviously prevailed."

For a second, Potions Master looked like he was going to slap her. There was a long, nasty silence. They glared at each other across the desk.

"You seem to have an utter disrespect for everything and everyone." Snape's face had gone rigid, the black eyes flashing dangerously. "You would have been expelled from Hogwarts, you exceedingly arrogant —"

"Then go and tell Dumbledore," she cut up without flinching. "Please, tell him what happened."

Snape looked paler than usual. The truth was they were both in troube, but he would suffer a lot worse consequences, if Dumbledore were to find out. Potions Master was fully aware of it.

"It was _you_ , who let me get in too far." he said sharply. "Do I make myself plain?"

"I was drugged, drunk and underage."

Ermyn saw, with deep satisfaction, that Snape was unnerved. When he spoke again he sounded as though he was trying to appear cool and unconcerned.

"Indeed. But surely you have noticed that I was under some kind of... charm that night. And how do you think that could have happened?"

Snape's black eyes were boring into deeply green of Rowle's. She felt a weird but very familliar sensation. It took her a while to associate it with anything.

"Stop!" she yelled all of a sudden. "Stop it now!"

Snape's eyebrows slightly raised.

"Stop what exactly?" he whispered, still eyeing Rowle intently.

"This Legilimency thing," she threw him a filthy look. "My mum... She uses it on me all the time."

Snape looked astonished.

"I wasn't aware that Euphemia had mastered this branch of magic."

"I dunno whether she's very skilled, but clearly enough for spying on her own kid." said Ermyntrude in a sneering tone. "You know — talking to children is passé. Why bother asking daughter about her day, if you can just read her mind!"

"You lack subtlety..."

"And you decency!" snarled Ermyn, exploding with anger. There was a pounding in her ears. "This is horribly intrusive sneaky and... and cowardly."

She watched the teacher apprehensively, waiting for the blow to fall. But Snape said nothing, his face contorted with fury as he strode back to his desk.

"I want you back here same time on Monday, we will continue work when you recover," he said finally in a cold, low voice. "Although, I would hate for you to go away with a false idea that you are a cut above us all... I warn you Rowle, this attitude of yours is highly inadvisable to continue. Now get out of my sight!"

Like she didn't know. Like she wasn't aware of the fact that she's crossing the line more and more. As though it wasn't obvious that this won't give her any good. But it was unmanageable.

Ever since she realized her veela power, everything started to go wrong. Instead of acquiring a new skill, discovering its potential, she felt as if it was the gift that took control of her. Screaming and insulting people, she resembled more of a little baby, mad that it didn't get a candy, than seducing magical creature.

Ermyntrude couldn't stop shaking. She was exhausted by her own anger. Breathing heavily, almost suffocating she glanced out of the window at the school grounds. There was a full moon and she needed a walk.

Using a secret passage, Ermyn sneaked out of the castle, trying to be as quiet as possible. She was going down the lawn, when she saw two silhouettes, standing in front of the Whomping Willow in the middle of the grounds. One tall, the other more of a student's height. Branches of the violent plant were creaking as though in a high wind, whipping backward and forward. Then suddenly, the tree froze and figures dissapeared somewhere around the base of the trunk.

Ermyn stood there for a while, paralyzed like the Whomping Willow just a few seconds ago.


	5. IV

\- IV -

The only thing Ermyntrude could now think about was those two mysterious people, who managed to restrain the Whomping Willow the previous night. Was it a powerful spell that immobilized the tree? Or maybe some other trick? What's hidden underneath the roots of the Whomping Willow? Who were these people and what were they doing there?

She felt an urgent need to share the news with her friends, but Tonks decided not to talk to her and Penny for some reason looked so happy, that it would be a crime to disturb her joy. Ermyn glanced at Jae, sitting a few foot away, picking some junior girl up. Rowle shook her head with disapproval — there were some things that Jae proved to fit in perfectly and some that he might not be very helpful with. Given all the sympathy for the boy, he wasn't the type of a person who take anything seriously.

Ermyn spend a lonely Sunday in the library, searching for any information about Whomping Willow and that sentient species of magical plant in general. Despite her efforts, she hasn't found anything that could be of any use. Since all the scholarly resources had disappointed her, the girl was forced to handle things personally.

The sun was already sinking behind the Forbidden Forest, gilding the top branches of the trees. Ermyn reached the Whomping Willow and stared at it for a long moment. There it was — a large gap in the roots. Most possibly a place where the two characters disappeared yesterday. But there was no way she would come any closer through the vicious, swishing branches, unless sacrificing an arm or a leg.

" _Immobulus_!" said Ermyn, flicking her wand without much of a hope.

Nothing happened. The sun was sinking fast now; the sky had turned to a clear, purple-tinged gray, but to the west there was a ruby-red glow. Darting here and there, Ermyntrude was trying to find a way through the battering branches. But every time she thought, she's going to make it, the tree's blows forced her to go backward. She didn't even noticed when the darkness settled around her, and the heavy clouds covered the night sky. The Hogwart's lights started illuminating in the distance. Admiring this beautiful view, she spotted a small, bright gleam sprinting down the castle steps toward the Willow. Someone was coming this way. To remain unnoticed, the girl fell flat to the grass, waiting for a stranger to approach.

When the figure came to range of sight, Rowle saw Professor Rakepick — a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher — who was holding a steaming goblet in her left hand. She seized a broken branch from the ground and prod the certain place on the trunk of the Whomping Willow. The tree abruptly stopped fighting, not a leaf twitched or shook. Rakepick moved quickly and vanished from the view.

As quietly as she could, Ermyn covered the distance to the trunk in seconds, almost getting crushed by twig abdurply clenching like knuckle. Covering, she examined the trunk of a thick tree, running her fingers across the bark until she finally touched a small knot in the base. Willow froze, as though it had been turned to marble.

"So easy," she whispered astonished.

She crawled into the gap in the roots, headfirst, and slid down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel. She could hear wet sound of the teacher's footsteps in the distance. Ermyn followed, trying to stay silent. The tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted. After a while there was a visible patch of dim light through a small opening ahead. Making sure Rakepick went on, Ermyntrude pulled herself out of the hole, looking around.

It was a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; stains all over the floor. Every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up. Ermyn stepped up to one and scratched the mouldering wood with her finger. She glanced through a freshly digged, tiny hole.

_Shrieking Shack? I'm in Hogsmeade!_

There was a creak overhead. Someone was moving downstairs. Rowle looked around and hid behind a broken wardrobe. The doors flew open and Rakepick came charging out and heading back to the tunnel. Ermyn waited a minute before she dared to abandon her hideout. She moved toward the door on the right. It was leading to a shadowy hallway. She crept out into the hall and next up the crumbling staircase. Reaching the dark landing, she heard a quiet sobbing, echoing through the walls. Ermyntrude sneaked up to the only opened door there and glimpsed.

It was Chiara Lobosca sitting in the middle of the room, curled up. Tears were running down her face, dripping on the dusty floor. Beside her lay an empty goblet, knocked out.

"It starts," she weeped with a muted breaking voice.

Then she had gone rigid. Her limbs began to shake and slowly, inch after inch extending. Chiara screamed outrageously. As her head was lengthening, a cry turned into a terrible snarling noise. Her shoulders were unnaturally hunching. For a second it looked like she was resisting, but a horrible crack cut the air and the girl landed on all four. Hair started sprouting visibly all over her body. Clawed paws replaced her hands with an awful sound of breaking nails. Snapping her long jaws, Chiara growled, being fully transformed into werewolf.

Pale as death, Ermyn set off at a run. She fled down the stairs, jumping off every three steps. Landing in the hall, she broke the old floor and her right leg got stuck in the hole. Regardless the severe pain piercing it, she pulled her limb rapidly and managed to free herself. She rushed throught the dark hall, staining the floor with her blood. Her heart was now thumping painfully fast. Within seconds she got back to the tunnel and wading in soft mud, moved as fast as she could, bent almost double. Seemed like it took eternity to finally escape the underground passage. Ermyn jumped out of the gap in the roots so fast, that the Whomping Willow failed to react. The girl stopped her run several feets away from the violent tree and feel on the lawn, gasping for air.

The grounds were still very dark, as the clouds have covered the night sky. The only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Ermyn touched her face when a cold gust of wind had frozen her hot cheeks. It was all wet, not from sweat, but from tears. A sharp cramp twisted her body. She threw up.

It wasn't fear. The only feeling that Ermyntrude could have for Chiara was deep compassion. It was a torture to watch the poor girl's agony. Her pain must have been excruciating; her loneliness in this condition devastating.

Rowle slumped down into a chair in the library, skimming through a fifteenth book about lycanthropy this evening.

_...however, refers to someone who suffers from a mental disease of fantasising being a wolf. This particular mental disorder is termed lycanthropy._

The Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts book turned out to be useless, just like the fourteen previous ones. Ermyn knew all that stuff from the classes. What she didn't know was whether anyone made any attempt to cure the magical illness. There was not a single research mentioned in the books.

_To become a werewolf, it is necessary to be bitten by a werewolf in their wolfish form at the time of the full moon. When the werewolf's saliva mingles with the victim's blood..._

Ermyn imagined Chiara being bitten by a mad beast. Her stomach gave a sickening jolt, shivers ran through her body. A recurrent fever has been nagging her since the last night. Since she saw Chiara transforming... Tears burned her eyes, her lower lip trembled. Rowle started wondering for how long the girl have been suffering from lycanthropy. Was it a childchood trauma or a teenage accident? Did anyone — except teachers — know?

It was almost eight o'clock in the evening. Madame Prince started closing the library, casting the students out. Ermyn took her bag and placed the book back on the shelf. She was quite sure, she should be somewhere else now, but just couldn't recall where. Still feeling sick, she massaged her face, walking out of the library.

_My detention!_

She hurried through the corridor. Her already injured leg hurt badly, when she collapsed onto a suit of armour, standing just around the corner. There was a loud bang and then giggles echoed, when a group of Ravenclaws was passing her by. Forced to slow down, Ermyntrude walked down the stairs, holding on to the railing, as she was slightly limping. Making her way down the dungeon stairs, she nearly slipped out of the last step. Panting, she stopped at the door to Snape's office and knocked hastily. She entered.

"You're late, Rowle," said Potions Master coldly, as she closed the door behind her.

Ermyn's attention was immediately drawn toward the desk, where a small copper cauldron was heating over an open fire.

"I want you to chop haoma seeds, Rowle," Snape didn't wait for her excuses.

Ermyntrude obliged. Using a sharp, silver knife she pulverized a handful of seeds in no time. Snape slightly raised an eyebrow. He passed her a white, porous rock and pointed his finger at the mortar, standing on the upper shelf to the left.

"Now, reduce that moonstone to a fine powder."

Crushing it wasn't an easy job — no wonder Snape had left that difficult task to her. He was stirring a cauldron, savoring the pleasure of looking at Ermyn's endeavors.

"That would suffice," he finally said, when the moonstone turned to dust. "Bring me aconite from the cupboard."

Still silent, Ermyntrude approached at the ajar cupboard door. She stared for a while at a familiar chortle extract phial. There was a small bottle filled with a yellow solution next to it. She made an hesitant hand movement in its direction.

" _Don't you dare_."

Snape's voice curtly came form behind her. Ermyn spun around.

"Sorry sir, I wasn't going to..." she muttered, "It's murtlap essence, isn't it? Can I have some?"

"What for?"

"For my leg..." she pulled up her robes and showed him the deep wound on her calf.

Snape stared down.

"And how did it happen?"

Ermyn wasn't prepared for that question. She opened and closed her mouth several times, trying hard to come up with some good explanation.

"Is this relevant?" she asked desperately.

"I believe yes," said Snape in a dangerous voice, his dark eyes glittering. "Since you wish to avail yourself of my supplies."

"The Kneazle!" said Ermyn with a late stroke of genius, looking at her injured right hand. "Kneazle did that, during the Care of Magical Creatures."

This was a downright lie and he knew that. If Madame Pomfrey took care of her hand, why didn't she do the same with her leg? Snape seized Ermyntrude up, his dark eyes fixed upon her startlingly green ones. He leaned gently towards her. A sudden flush coloured the girl's cheeks, as his face was only a few inches from hers. With his left hand, Snape reached into the cupboard and get a bottle. Straightening slowly up, he uncorked the flask, then took the handkerchief out of his pocket and soaked it with murtlap essence.

"Do you require more for your other wound, Rowle?" asked Snape softly, handing her an improvised bandage.

"No, my hand is almost healed."

"Indeed?"

He took a jar out of the cupboard and swept over to his desk. Ermyn sat down on the cold, stone floor, with her back against the furniture and applied the handkerchief to the injury, feeling an immediate relief. She watched Snape, as he started adding another ingredient. There was something truly passionate about him brewing potions. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but now — seeing him stirring a cauldron so carefully with his gaze focused on the lustre of the fumes — he seemed to be in his element. In fact, he was always teaching about potions with unbridled fascination in his voice, using a language sophisticated to the extent, it often sounded sensual.

"Enjoying yourself, Rowle?" called Snape, pouring the content of cauldron into the goblet.

Ermyn got to her feet and quickly came to his desk. The completed potion exuded a faint blue smoke. It didn't smell the best, probably tasted even worse. She took a step back not to inhale that nasty vapor.

"Clean this for me, Rowle," ordered Snape. "As I said last time — no use of magic nessesary..."

He put an empty cauldron on the counter.

"This is your last assignment for today," he continued. "For your next detention, you will report to Mr. Filch's office on Friday evening."

Holding a wire brush in her hand, Ermyntrude got to work. Fortunatelly, it was only one, not that dirty cauldron, as the ingredients leftovers didin't stuck and get burned on the bottom. It took her less than a quater to make a copper neat and shiny again.

Finally free, Ermyn walked out of the dungeons, her head hurting badly. She was so tired, that she didn't notice the dark figure setting off down the stairs, and almost bumped into it.

"Watch it, Rowle!" called a hoarse voice of Professor Rakepick.

The teacher smoothly passed the girl and hurried on into the dungeons.


	6. V

\- V -

Chiara was sitting on the lawn of the middle courtyard, gently plucking blades of the juicy green grass. She was looking very tired — no wonder, considering what she's been through for the last three days. She had dark shadows under her eyes and a distinctly grayish tinge to her naturally pale skin. Even the usual shiny silver hair of hers has become a little dull.

The werewolf girl get to her feet and started walking gradually towards the Transfiguration classroom. Ermyn followed, thinking vigorously. Talk to Chaira straightforward or will it be deemed as offensive? What would be her reaction, finding out that Rowle had discovered her secret? Ermyn once heard from Tonks, that Lobosca was an extreme introvert and didn't make many friends since the beggining of her education at Hogwarts. For the last five years the girl has been kind of isolating herself even from fellow Huffelpuffs.

"Ermy!" a petite figure of Penny emerged from behind the column, blocking Rowle's path.

She was all smiles. Her usually braided, thick and long blonde hair now loose, sparkling in the daylight.

"Hi Penny, how was your weekend?" asked Ermyntrude, gazing at the place where Chiara had just vanished out of sight.

"Bill took me to Madam Puddifoot's!" Haywood almost yelled, as she found it very hard to hide her excitement. "The place was so nice and cute! Bill ordered Espresso Patronum — me a Cafe Lumoslatte Mandracchiato. And Ermy, I swear, there was a miniature baby white-tailed deer walking across the tables and we fed it with sugar cubes!"

The silent seconds trickled past, and beaming smile didn't come off Penny's face. Ermyn moved nervously, being not really sure how to comment.

"A-amazing," she stammered.

"Er — and how was your detention?"

"Not... bad," said Ermyn, still stunned by friend's story. "I mean, I don't consider making a potion much of a punishment."

The bell rang and they both hurried off to Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall's classes were always a struggle for Rowle. Last year she earned herself the nickname "Bleach" among her schoolmates, when practising _Colovaria_ Charm. She wasn't capable of performing any colour change, other than turning everything to white.

"You cannot pass an O.W.L.," said Professor McGonagall grimly, "without serious study, Miss Rowle. Next week we are starting Inanimatus Conjurus Spells and you still didn't manage to learn the basic transformation."

Ermyn glanced into her _Intermediate Transfiguration_ book, where a series of diagrams were showing an owl turning into a pair of opera glasses. Then she looked at a feathered telescope lying in front of her.

" _Strigiforma_!" she waved her wand again, frowning.

Feathers lazily disappeard replaced by a gold frame. Another incantation later, lunette has divided in two and turned into a nice pair of opera glasses.

"That's better, Miss Rowle —"

_HOO HOO_

Two short, deep sounds came out of the gilded binocular, followed by a long 'hooooooo'. There was a roar of laughter. Professor McGonagall peered at Ermyntrude through her square spectacles.

"I would've put you in detention," she said and silence fell immediately, "if your misbehavior in Professor Snape's class hadn't already cost you all of your this month's weekends."

"I can just summon the damn thing," said Ermyn angrily, slowly ascending the steps to the Ancient Runes clasroom. "So why bother turning _anything_ into opera glasses..."

"So you could pass an O.W.L.," said Penny stiffly.

"Yea, yea..." Rowle nodded without any conviction, spotting Chiara's slender silhouette going up the stairs - possibly for her Divination lesson.

Thinking of it as a great opportunity to make friends, she caught up with Lobosca and called out enthusiastically, "Hay Chiara! You did brilliantly on Transfiguration today. I'm so impressed by how you managed to change an owl on the second approach!"

Chiara shoot her a terrified glance over the shoulder. It was a look of a wild animal sensing the grave danger — her big blue eyes wide open, her pupils dilated. After a few long and silent seconds, barely opening her pinkish lips, Chiara said quietly, "Thank you."

She looked around insecurely, like she was seeking an escape route. But before Ermyn could say anything more, the bell rang and Chiara sneaked away up the stairs for Divination.

" _Awkward_ ," spoke Penny singsongy from behind her back. "Don't trouble yourself, Lobosca is a weirdo."

"Maybe she's got a reason..." Ermyn tried to defend the girl.

"Reason or not," Penny shrugged, "after five years spend in one house — I just don't care."

However, Ermyntrude didn't give up. A strong resolution to befriend the werewolf girl had almost completely absorbed her mind. Actually, she may tried a little too hard, as after a couple of days, Chiara started to aviod her. Also, Ermyn continued her research on the on curing the lycanthropy - unfortunately with no success. Feeling resigned, on Friday evening, whether willing or not, she went to Filch's office to serve her detention. Penny and Tonks were already waiting there.

"I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" Filch came wheezing into the room, taking a flat-footed step toward the girls. "It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out... hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days..."

"Quite a fantasy." whispered Tonks with a smirk.

"Yerse..." Filch continued, "you will be sorting the magic lottery clippings from Daily Prophet. I want them all cut out nicely from the magazine and glued to the notebookes by dates. We will break the system..."

And that's how the three weeks' punishment passed by — on sticking random numbers to parchment sheets. During this sisyphean task the girls had a really fun time, re-reading old articles; some of them so absurde, that they burst into laughter every now and then.

Seeing a huge pile of Daily Prophets in front of her, Penny's attention was instantly drawn by a certain headline. Intrigued girl reached for the old newspaper and started reading aloud:

**_WOLFSBANE POTION - TRUE REMEDY OR JUST A QUICK FIX_ **

_Although there is no known cure, recent developments in potion-making  
_ _have_ _to a great extent alleviated the worst symptoms of lycanthropy._

 _Damocles Belby, an outstanding potioneer, had been awarded an Order of Merlin  
_ _for inventing the Wolfsbane Potion. Made up mostly of Aconite (while the formula  
remains _ _secret), is able to relieve (but not cure) the effects of Lycanthropy by allowing  
_ _the werewolf to retain his or her human intelligence while transformed._

Ermyn froze. Wolfsbane Potion — of course! That must've been it. The exact same mixture she assisted Snape with brewing the other day. Aconite as the main ingredient... Rakepick holding a steaming goblet on her way to the Shrieking Shack... Everything matched.

"I didn't know they developed such a revolutionary elixir!" Penny looked astonished. "How come I've never heard of it?"

"The formula is secret," Tonks pointed out.

"Or was..." Penny glanced at the front page of the Daily Prophet, "...in 1978."

Ermyn knelt down to collect the scattered newspapers, thinking hard. The potion apparently needed to be _freshly_ prepared, as Chiara got to drink it on every single day during the fullmoon. And its effect allowed werewolves to keep their minds after transformation — which was making the girl safe! Unfortunately, the infusion did not solve the problem of forced transformation, nor associated pain. Perhaps someone was already working on decreasing the sore?

Regardless, Ermyn was now feeling very grateful to Damocles Belby for his contribution to alleviate Chiara's suffering; and highly determined too to learn the Wolfsbane Potion formula. Meanwhile, the only known and accessible source of this information was, none other than, the Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry himself.

_Just go and ask_ , Ermyntrude kept telling herself in her mind. _I'm simply a curious student, who wants to gain some extra knowledge_.

The timing felt perfect, as the afternoon wore on and the last Potions class on that day had just finished. Lurking against the blank stone wall, Ermyn watched the sixth year students leaving Snape's class. When the dungeon corridor got deserted, she took a deep breath and entered the classroom.

"What is it this time, Rowle?" asked Snape in a bored voice.

But the moment the girl opened her mouth to say something, a third year Slytherin sped in to the room, panting.

"Professor Snape, sir," he gasped, "There's an emergency on the second floor girls' lavatory, sir. T-the ghost gone on a rampage —"

"It's all right, Flint," said Potions Master, making his way out of the class.

He peeked at Ermyntrude. His black eyes narrowed, but the girl shrugged and raised her eyebrows, making an I-can-wait expression.

Snape emerged slowly from the classroom. Ermyn looked around the empty dungeon. It was both weird and exciting to stand there alone, like being in the shop after closing. She was strolling along the tables, examining the contents of evaporating cauldrons. Moving up to Snape's desk, she noticed a copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ by Libatius Borage lying there. She reached for a battered-looking book and saw something scribbled along the bottom of the back cover in the small, cramped handwriting.

_This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince._

The margins were as black as the printed portions, since there were scribbles all over the pages. Looked like someone had written in the alternative instructions.

A loud bang brought her back to the gloomy dungeon. Professor Snape had entered the classroom and finding her still present, he closed the door with a jerk.

"Well, well, well," he sneered. "So, what is that urgent matter you're coming to me with?"

"Sir," Ermyn relaxed her face, trying to look as innocent as possible, "I wondered what you know about... the Wolfsbane Potion?"

Snape did not speak eyeing her intensively.

"I came across the term while serving my detention," girl contiuned, putting an _Advanced Potion-Making_ copy back on his desk. "It was mentioned in the old Daily Prophet —"

"It is extremely difficult to make," Snape forestalled her, "and could have disastrous side-effects if the recipe was tampered with — so if you don't intend poisoning Miss Lobosca, then leave that complex job to me."

A few long and full of tense seconds later, a beaming smug appeared on Ermyn's pretty face.

"I could assist you, sir," she said, looking directly into Snape's dark, cold eyes. "Despite the bad blood between us, I've always seen you as a significantly competent teacher and admired your great skill."

Snape couldn't suppress a thinlipped smile. Ermyn hadn't had too much of experience in trying to persuade people, but storking an ego was always the most reliable strategy. Almost failure-proof agenda.

She felt oddly calm. Although Snape's expression was anew unfathomable, Rowle interpreted it as a good sign. She sat on the edge of his desk, giving him time to soak her words up. Flashing another charming smile, she caught his sudden yearned sight, wandering from her pink lips to deep green eyes — that was the very same look he gave her on the night of the Celestial Ball. Her veela powers must've already mesmerised the teacher.

Though, her veela powers must've affected him too well, as Snape abruptly approached and his arm wrapped around her waist. Ermyn trembled surprised. He roughly took hold of her chin and started tracing her mouth with his thumb; his fingers cool against her overheated skin.

"You wish me to do _that_ again?" asked the girl, slighty red on her face, making her lips curve in a provoking smile.

These words had sober him up a bit. Rowle licked his thumb seductively and moved down, but Snape seized her by the arms and stopped before she could lower herself into a kneeling position. Yet the very thought, that the girl was willing to do it without hesitation made his heart racing. The blood already got pumping, making him hard. He turned away.

"Get out," barked Snape, getting back to his senses.

But Ermyntrude did not obey. Instead she presented him a cute, wide grin that contoured around her almond-shaped eyes. She bit her lips flirtatiously. Her heart beating so fast, she was afraid she would lose control.

Snape was struggling. His vision was becoming blurry and sharp in turns, as the girl's light, radiant skin was diffusing everything around. He could clear his mind of emotions, but to get rid of desire — that was something entirely different, not feasible.

He grabbed an edge of Ermyn's white collar shirt and pulled it, exposing her tiny, perky breasts. Snape admired the view for a moment. His long fingers slid down, going under the folds of her skirt, traveling to inner part of her thights. Ermyntrude trembled, when he found the right place and rubbed it both gentle and fast. Her heavy breath turned into jagged gasps — then into a moan, as Snape positioned himself in between her legs, shove his pants past his hips and pushed hard into girl's wet entrance. She gripped him tight, while he began to move, stretching her little by little. Feeling the trailing waves of pleasure, she sunk her fingers into his black hair. Snape was now moaning softly right into her ear; his low voice made her tingly. She leaned back and looked directly into the cold eyes of his. Pulsing inside her sharply increased and Snape groaned. He came hard and fast.

"No..." whispered Ermyn, as he pulled out. "Don't leave me like that..."

She grabbed his hand and impatiently placed it between her thighs. Snape's fingers slipped into her swollen interior and began to caress her from the inside. She helped herself, rubbing on the outside until her body spasmed, making her moan again.

Both panting, they glared at each other. Snape straightened up and pulled his trousers back up. Then he took the handkerchief out of his pocket and — still fixing his gaze on the girl — begin slowly wiping his fingers.

"I came inside you..." he started.

"Straight to the awkward part," sneered Ermyn, trying to fix her shirt; some buttons were missing.

"Keep quiet, you stupid girl," said Snape at once in an ice-cold voice. "I believe you realize what consequences that might bring."

Not waiting for her respond, he swept to the supply cupboard, standing in the corner of the room. Ermyntrude didn't dare to interrupt him. Taken out two small jars and a pouch out of the cupboard, Snape walked up to the nearest cauldron and waved his wand. The fire lit under. He placed the ingredients on the table and started preparing. Within several minutes, a light vapor began to float above the surface of the brew. Snape poured the finished potion into two separate containers - the goblet and the small flask. He gave the first one to the girl.

"You should drink that directly, Rowle," he said.

"What's that?" Ermyn glanced at the infusion.

"Blue and black cohosh in the majority," teacher handed her the flask. "The second dose is for tomorrow morning."


	7. VI

\- V I -

Neither did Ermyntrude know the Wolfsbane Potion's recipe, nor got a clear response to her offering on assisting with brewing it. Making Snape to divulge the formula was fun though — even if not efficient. The warm shivers crossed her at the memory of that blissful evening. It felt right and wrong at the same time. Not because of the age or status gap, but the forte she used to seduce the teacher. Was it a true desire or artificial lust? There was no great skill to her veela ability yet. She elicited, but he took charge. They both benefited, gained great pleasure. An equal exchange whilst none got hurt. How can one define it as bad? _Quid pro quo_ was her family motto, engraved all over the Rowle mansion, establishing the world she grew up in. All in all Snape was a man, still young and apparently full of passion. Things that are integrated with our nature are not quite choices, are they?

Feeling she's overthinking it, Ermyn took another sip of the bitter potion. She's been having some problems distinguishing good from evil ever since. That was the reason she was determined by the Sorting Hat to join Gryffindor instead of Slytherin (breaking a long-standing tradition of Rowle family) — to learn the difference. It was a true Hatstall that year...

Ermyn glanced at a batch of pamphlets and leaflets on the table in Gryffindor Tower. There was also a notice on the board, which read:

**CAREER ADVICE**

**_All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House  
_** **_during the first week of the Summer term, in which they will be given the opportunity  
_** ****_to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below._

Rowle was expected in Professor McGonagall's office at eleven on Tuesday. There was a cold, plunging sensation in her stomach. She picked up a leaflet that carried the question mark coming out of the wand on its front.

"Consider becoming an Obliviator?" asked Bill Weasley, suddenly appearing above her head.

"Yup," said Ermyn darkly, "So I could _professionally_ keep myself forgetting about the terrible life choice I made."

"Most people," Head Boy leaned his elbows against the couch backrest, "consider setting a career path exciting."

"I'm not most people. Besides, how can I now, at sixteen, decide on what I wanna do for the rest of my life? How?"

She got to her feet and headed to the portrait hole. Bill followed and, walking in silence for a while, they left the Gryffindor Tower.

"You can always start with one thing," Weasley took advantage of the silence, "and get to another eventually."

"Are you my career advisor?"

"No, I'm your Prefect and a Head Boy," Bill stopped abruptly, frowning, "so it's my privilege to guide you through your doubters. Am I disturbing you?"

"You're dating a girl I like."

Another few second of silence has fell, whilst they were eyeing each other.

"Quite straightforward," said Bill, rising his eyebrows. "Aren't you dating Jae Kim?"

"No," said Ermyn quickly. "We were never, um... dating."

"Hmm..." Weasley set off down the stairs. "But it's Penny's choice, isn't it?"

"She's never had to choose, as I've never told her," Rowle hurried along behind him. "And never will. I'm a hopeless emotional cripple."

They reached the entrance of the Great Hall. The ceiling was serenely blue, just like the squares of sky visible through the high mullioned windows.

"It's good to accept your limitations," said Bill reasonably, "and focus on values instead."

He gave her a wide, engaging grin and winked friendly, walking away towards the long Gryffindor table. Ermyn followed him with her green eyes narrowing maliciously.

"Smart f..."

The bell rang, drowning out the rest of her words. Ermyntrude hastily grabbed a toast and some bacon from Huffelpuff table and rushed over to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Professor Rakepick was already there, making an impatient foot-tapping, while waiting for students to gather.

"C'mon, I don't have all day!" she shouted. "Leave the books. Leave it! No need for this crap today."

She was an energetic and strict witch, who did not suffer foolishness from anyone. Being very secure in her own judgement, she liked to demonstrate a sudden temper or disdain towards students. And she was loud.

"Today I'll introduce you to the one of the most famous and powerful defensive charms — Patronus Charm!" Rackpick yelled. "It's complicated and an extremely difficult spell! Who can tell me what are the two types of Patronuses?"

Ronan's hand shot into the air, but the teacher ignored her.

"Corporeal!" Rakepick answered herself. "And incorporeal! Good!"

She was constantly strolling around the classroom in a significantly dynamic manner. Students used to call this unique mobility of hers 'the-floor-is-lava-walk'; her class 'yellcture'.

"It is the primary protection against Dementors and Lethifolds!" Rakepick went on, screaming in her hoarse voice. "Line up! Faster! Move! Now — repeat after me — _Expecto Patronum_!"

" _Expecto Patronum_!" said the class together.

"Good!" cried the teacher, sweeping lively between students to the front of the class. "To produce any form of Patronus you have to concentrate on the happiest memory you can think of! GO!"

Everyone interpreted it, as a signal to start the practise. After a couple of minutes most of the students already begun to a shoot a faint wisps of silver smokeout from the end of their wands; some even managed to issue puffs of silver vapor. However, Ermyn couldn't recall the proper memory.

"Happy thoughts, Miss Rowle!" Rakepick shouted right into Ermyn's ear, when putting an arm around the girl's shoulder in an overly firm grip. "HAPPY THOUGHTS!"

The intensity of the teacher's voice almost knocked Ermyntrude out. As she got dizzy no thoughts at all were present in her head for a few seconds. And the ones that came after a while were certainly not joyful.

"Is it possible to die by noise?" muttered Ermyn, setting off the stairs, having a really bad headache.

"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal" said Rowan Khanna walking alongside. "You would've known that if you had paid bit of attention to what Professor Sprout had said in our..."

"Yea," Ermyntrude swerved fast into the nearest corridor, ignoring the girl. "I'm deaf."

She and Khanna were friends on their first year at Hogwarts, before Rowan turned out to be less fun and more presumptuous and boastful. Their paths have diverged because of the know-it-all girl's annoying frequent corrections (even if Ermyn's anwser was right, although not word-for-word copied from the book) and interrupting nudges, that were making Rowle go crazy. Rowan's habit to repeatedly elbow her friend in the ribs became just painful, as every poke left her long-lasting bruises eventually.

Deflecting from the course costed Ermyntrude a several-minute delay in getting to the Potions class. Everyone were already continuing with brewing their Strengthening Solutions, as mixtures have matured well since Monday.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Rowle," said Professor Snape idly. "Settle down."

The only available seat was at the Slytherin's table. Ermyn took it, after she found her cauldron full of greenish liquid. Trying not to pay attention to the giggles on her left, she focused on finishing the potion. Adding just a dash of salamander blood, she was pleased to see the colour of the infusion changing into light blue. According to the instructions, the next ingredient — a griffin's claw — requiried to be crushed to the powder. Investigating for mortar, Ermyntrude suddenly heard a quiet 'plop' behind her back. She spun around and saw Merula Snyde with her arm stretched above Ermyn's cauldron.

"Oops!" screeched Merula to a chorus of her friends' suppressed giggles.

The mixture drizzled like a carbonated drink and turned mushy brown. Ermyn shot a very angry look at Snyde, swiftly grabbed her palm and jerked it hard, reducing the distance between them in a flash.

"Mess up my potion again," Ermyn hissed, squeezing Slytherin's hand with all her might, "and I'll brew a new Strengthening Solution, drink it and mess up your f —"

"Fighting, Rowle, Snyde?" said a soft, deadly voice.

Snape glided over to their desk.

"Not at all, sir," said Ermyn, instantly beaming.

She ceremonially put Merula's red, pulsing with pain hand on the counter and — giving it a fake-looking, tender little stroke — let go of the grip.

"I just needed to appreciate Merula's help," she went on, "in showing me how a griffin's claw shall not be added to the Strengthening Solution, with a decent handshake."

"Miss Snyde?" Snape turned to Merula.

"She threatened me, Professor," said the girl, rubbing her swelling palm.

Snape's lip curled.

"A further ten points from Gryffindor," he said and added, as Ermyn rolled her eyes, "I give you fair warning, Rowle, I will not tolerate such behavior in my class."

He swept over to his desk, his dark robes billowing behind him.

" _Evanesco_ ," muttered Ermyn, waving her wand at the cauldron to get rid of the spoiled mixture.

To her surprise the mushy brown liquid disappeared instantly — meaning she did some progress on Vanishing Spells. Despite the fact, that she would be receive zero marks for the day's work, the girl got suddenly glee and sit in her chair, smiling. For the rest of the lesson she was watching everyone around filling their flagons and marching up, one by one, to Snape's desk. The bell rang.

"Homework: nine inches of parchment on the varieties of venom antidotes, to be handed in on Monday," said Snape. "Rowle, where do you think you are going?"

Ermyntrude froze by the dungeon door. The group of Slytherins leaded by Merula, passed her by, sending her malicious smirks.

Even when the classroom got deserted, Snape did not speak for a minute or so. His expression was blank as usual, but Ermyn could feel the tension.

"Did you take your _medicine_?" he asked sleekly.

"Sure I did," said Ermyn, quickly calculating how much she could indulge herself. "But I honestly believed you'd be a little nicer after being satisfied, sir."

Snape went quiet again, his fathomless black eyes now boring into deep green Ermyn's.

"Didn't you enjoy it?" asked the girl, tilting her head to one side with an enticing smile.

"It is unimportant," said Snape coldly. "I was tempted, chose an inappropriate manner that _must never happen again_. Am I making myself plain?"

"Yea, yea.." said Ermyn dismissively, turning her back on him. "But it's sounds like a New Year's resolution to me — you say it, but you don't really mean it."

It was the first night of a full moon. Chiara was already in Shrieking Shack, probably drinking her potion at that very moment, as Rakepick came back to the castle a couple of minutes ago. Ermyn was hurrying through the dark and overcast school grounds. Reaching the Whomping Willow, she poked the knot in the trunk with a long stick and slipped under the roots of the tree.

 _Chiara is safe_ , she kept telling herself. _She drank the potion so her mind is human. Don't panic._

Though she paniced a little when climbed the stairs and saw a fully fledged silver beast. Peeking into the dusty room, she tried to locate the empty goblet and make sure Chiara had drunk the Wolfsbane Potion. She moved slightly forward, then took a deep breath and entered the room. Her face had hardened when she suddenly stood eye to eye with a werewolf.

"Chiara?" asked Ermyn tentatively.

At first, the beast froze up stunned. Then, the bristle on its back rised up slowly, creating a spiky line running across its spine. Ermyn's body responded with goose bumps.

"Chiara, I know it's you," said Rowle in a voice of forced calm. "I tried to tell you, I know about your condition —"

The werewolf growled, its white teeth bared.

"— and I wanted to help, " Ermyntrude stretched her arm out towards Chiara, as though trying to tame the girl. "It's okay..."

With a roar of rage, beast started toward the Ermyn. As if trying to throw away the girl's hand it smacked its big wolf paw and cut deeply into Rowle's palm. Blood drops gushed, staining the old wallpaper. Ermyntrude screamed and fell backward onto the floor. Trembling, she pressed her bleeding hand tightly to chest. The werewolf gone mad; it was baying and snarling furiously; wagging its tail aggressively; rapidly leaping and withdrawing with a horrible scowl on its face. Ermyn started desperately crawling back to the door. Then, she got up and ran as fast as she could, to get away from the Shrieking Shack; out of the reach of werewolf's claws and teeth. Even when she was tearing through a muddy tunnel, the walls were still echoing the wild howling.


	8. VII

The wound didn't want to heal. When Ermyntrude made it back to the castle the blood was everywhere — all over her hands, robes, face. She spend an extreme stressful night in the bathroom, stopping the major bleeding, as injuries caused by werewolves are known to be very hard to mantain. Crimson drops were dripping from her hand, as though it was freshly cut, even when she unwrapped the bandages two days later. Jae proved to be helpful, for which Rowle was most grateful to him, when at her request, he stole some dittany and powdered silver from student supply cupboard on Monday's Potion class. He did not ask any questions and did what she begged him to do, but judged — a lot — as she could see it in his eyes: that familliar why-do-I-have-to-always-clean-up-your-mess look.

Frankly shocked, Ermyn herself did not know how she accomplished turning a harmless wolf into a rage mode — but it could've possibly be due to Chiara being ashamed of anyone seeing her in that form. Maybe she felt anxious about her condition to the point, where the great fear of being exposed had overwhelmed her, causing an aggression.

Whatever it was, Ermyn got the message. The searing wound on her hand was a irrefutable proof of her poor social skills, and because Chiara obviously also had some insufficiencies in this area of life, the Gryffindor girl decided to simply stay away. She didn't try to sneak into the Shrieking Shack anymore and, when Lobosca returned to the school after three days of full moon, aimed on avoiding her. It didn't change the fact, that Ermyn was still sorry for the werewolf girl — and feeling guilty, as Chiara became even more insecure and quiet now.

Applying a bandage, soaked in a mixture of powdered silver and dittany to her wound, Ermyn hissed in pain. She wrapped her hand, hoping it would help. There was twenty minutes left to her career advice meeting and the only prospective job she could come up with now was manufacturing paper airplanes for Ministry of Magic.

"Sit down, Rowle," said Professor McGonagall, when Ermyntrude entered her office. A huge pile of leaflet were littering teacher's desk. "Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts?"

"The choices are many, Professor," said Ermyn gloomy. "Too many."

Professor McGonagall sat down behind her desk and looked very seriously at Ermyntrude.

"That is the very purpose of this meeting, Rowle," she said. "To talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into sixth and seventh years."

Ermyn went quiet of a while, gazing at the floor. There was a frown on her face.

"And what if I don't have any career ideas?" she muttered, sitll looking down.

"You're a skilled witch, Rowle," said Professor McGonagall, straightening her glasses, "But you lack patience and focus. All you need to do, is to get more involved."

Her tone of voice has changed. It wasn't her usual brisk and crisp way of talking, but low and caring. Much more human.

"I would advise you to concentrate hard on bringing your Transfiguration up." said Professor McGonagall, going back to her regular stern tone. "You're below 'Acceptable' at the moment, so you'll need to put in some seriously hard work before the exams. I see Professor Snape has graded you between 'Exceeds Expectations' and 'Outstanding' for the past five years — that could have been satisfactory path for you; as for Ancient Runes, Charms, History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Astronomy, your marks have been generally high. Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology are not your strongest subjects, I daresay."

Professor McGonagall peered at the girl through her lopsided spectacles.

"I cannot make you choose, Ermyntrude," she sighed. "If you can't make up your mind, continue all subjects you feel good at and I, as your Head of House, shall assist you for the next two years, no matter what."

Ermyn slowly got up from the chair and reached for her bag. All this time she was in suspense, being afraid to disappoint Professor McGonagall's expectations. However, the teacher showed no sign of impatience or displeasure. It was a relief to feel no pressure for once.

"Thank you, Professor," said Ermyn, walking out of the room.

About a month was separating fifth years from their O.W.L. exams. A month devoted to studying, catching up and practising — until the Quidditch match, Slytherin versus Huffelpuff, was to take place on the weekend. Gryffindor was not daring to hope for victory, due to Huffelpuff's crushing triumph in March. Although, Ermyn didn't care that much about the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup and, dressed in canary-yellow oversize jumper, walked down to the pitch along with Tonks and Penny. Together they carried a big banner with a black badger, holding the Golden Snitch in one hand and the Beater's bat in the other, painted on it.

It was a sunny day, some minor clouds were visible on the horizon. As the teams walked out onto the pitch, a roar of cheers greeted them. Madam Hooch was standing in the middle of the field with her broom in her hand. The Captains walked up to each other and shook hands. There was a whistle and all players kicked hard into the air.

"And they are off!" yelled Murphy McNully, the Commentator-in-Chef of Hogwarts. "Quaffle is taken immediately by Caplan!"

The Huffelpuff Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another. Slytherin's Beater swung hard at a passing Bludger with his bat, knocking it into Chaser's path, who ducked and avoided the Bludger but dropped the Quaffle. Soaring beneath, the Slytherin caught it and —

"FLINT SCORES!" screamed McNully, and the pitch shuddered with a roar of applause. "Ten zero to Slytherin!"

"Damn it!" squeaked Penny loudly, shaking with emotions.

She was taking the Inter-House Quidditch Cup exceptionally seriously. Dancing up and down, she was going wild every time Huffelpuff scored. Next to her, Tonks was waving her arms in the air, cheering the team. After thirty minutes, Slytherins had pulled ahead by two more goals. They were now leading by sixty points to forty, and the game was starting to get dirtier.

"Slytherin again in possession," Murphy was yelling, "And stopped by a magnificent move by Huffelpuff Keeper! Now the Huffelpuffs take the Quaffle and— "

"AN EXCESSIVE USE OF ELBOWS!" cried Penny, ruby on her face. "Where is the referee?"

A shiny smudge flew around Ermyn's head. The girl made a gesture, as if she was chasing away a mosquito and, still staring intensively at the players, she thoughtlessly grabbed the hovering object. After a while, the faces of the gathered students began turning towards her; the screams seemed to be weakening, giving way to the growing whispers. In a sudden flash of understanding, Ermyn looked at her hand, still clenched on a round, fluttering object.

"Oh!" broke out of her mouth when she realized, she had caught the Golden Snitch.

"ROWLE, LET GO OF THE SNITCH," a voice of Murphy McNully roared over the pitch. "WE STILL NEED IT."

The crowd burst out laughing. Ermyntrude felt her face redden, as she released the golden ball from her palm. She chuckled, though, watching the Snitch fly away.

The game ended with two hundred and ten points to seventy for Slytherin. The winners recalled their victory loudly and frequently for the next three weeks, until the final match against Gryffindor, during which they won the Inter-House Quidditch Cup, and their bragging reached a whole new level. It was hard to focus on studying for the exams, as wave after wave, the Slytherin groups were singing the praise songs, celebrating the feats of their team.

_Slytherin Quidditch team_   
_is the best,_   
_we know it is!_

"It doesn't rhyme, morons!" shouted Penny to the gang of second years, sitting on the edge of the Black Lake.

To her frustration, the water carried another unrhyming verses of the song. Penny's ears got so red out of anger, it seemed like they were about to start bleeding.

"C'mon. It's just a g— " started Ermyn, looking up, but as she met Penny's mad gaze, she quickly immersed in her Transfiguration notes.

The sunlight was dazzling on the black and smooth surface of the lake. The shadow of the beech tree, under which Tonks, Penny and Ermyntrude were sitting, was prolonging slowly. The notes were spread chaoticly around on the grass. There was also a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans lying between the girls. Ermyn dug out some candy of the packaging, being careful to grab only red ones. She deemed it a good strategy to avoid nasty flavours.

"Tomorrow's Potions should be easy," said Penny, looking at their examination schedule. "I mean, they can give us a complex mixture, but nothing that needs days of brewing..."

"I'm certainly not worried about the potions," said Ermyn, aiming her wand at a cobalt blue bean, that had dropped out of the box. " _Colovaria_!"

Little pink patches covered the candy.

"At least it's not white," said Tonks, comfortingly patting her friend on the shoulder.

The Great Hall was rearranged: the four House tables had been removed and replaced with more than a hundred small desks. Professor McGonagall was facing the students at the end of the Hall, waiting for them to settle down. A huge hourglass was standing on the table beside her, along with spare quills, ink bottles, and rolls of parchment. Two rows to the left and three seats ahead, Tonks smiled and winked at Ermyn, and then truned to Penny, giving her a thumb-up.

"You may begin," said Professor McGonagall and turned over the hourglass.

Everybody turned over their papers and started scribbling. The only sound was the scratching of quills and the occasional rustle as somebody adjusted their parchment. Ermyn lowered her eyes to the first question: _a) Describe stem, leaves and flowers of Asphodel b) specify it's usage in potion-making..._

Rowle found it odd to brew her Befuddlement Draught during practical, with Snape absent from the proceedings. The mixture came out perfectly this time and she wished, she could show off in front of the Potions Master.

One table ahead, Ben Cooper was absorbed in chopping scurvy grass, totally forgetting to add sneezewort. Using Levitation Charm non-verbally, Ermyn quickly tipped sneezewort powder to his cauldron, before the boy managed to mess up his work.

Tuesday's Charms exam wasn't particularly difficult either. Ermyn felt she did a very good job describing the wand movements and giving the incantations of various charms. The practical part was much more of a challenge — being a little nervous, Ermyntrude set the whole table on fire, presenting her Fire-Making Spell. Although, she fixed her mistake by immediately casting the Flame-Freezing Charm, before the flames caused any damage to the furniture. Her well-trained Severing Charm cut that very same table into nine equal pieces, then reparing it in a flash, making Professor Marchbanks nodding in approval. Feeling she had just achieved at least an "Exceeds Expectations" O.W.L., Ermyn was walking out of the hall all smiles. She glanced at Tonks performing the Pack Charm and couldn't suppress a grin, seeing the girl waving her wand in a long, sweeping movement, making a stack books soared into the air and flew pell-mell into the trunk. The shock and disbelief on the examinator's face was just priceless, when peeking at the jumble inside.

During the evening everyone was trying to do some last-minute studying for Transfiguration next day. Ermyn couldn't sleep that night, feeling like her head was about to explode. A Sleeping Draught did it's job, though, as she prepared it beforehand just in case.

However, the problem with this subject was not the theory part — with which the girl had no major trouble — but the practical one. Ermyn started the exam with a little faux pas, vanishing not the fish, but all the water from the tank. Then it got only worse, when she transformed a teapot into a steam breathing turtle with the flower-pattern on its shell. The only spell that she performed perfectly was the Hardening Charm, since every object that Professor Marchbanks pointed out, Rowle managed to turn into a stone.

Both Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures went well, exept for the part, where hardly anyone could identify a Knarl hidden among hedgehogs. Ermyn was also very positive about her Study of Ancient Runes result, as it was her second favourite subject. History of Magic turned out to be a struggle, because most of the questions were about the Giant Wars or many Goblin Rebellions, that were hard to momorise.

Ermyn had no problem naming five signs that identify the werewolf on the written part of the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam, as she stood once eye to eye with one. The question about the Nocturnal beast's activity time was just too trivial, same as the one about difference between anti-jinx and counter-jinx.

During the practical Ermyntrude presented a very strong Shield Charm and then send a target flying to the other side of the Great Hall, using an _Expelliarmus_. Her Impediment Hex lasted remarkably long, but when it came to facing a Boggart, her smile faded. Rowle looked like all the blood had drained out of her face, when the lid of the trunk opened.

The huge figure with a short blond hair gradually emerged from inside. Its muscled arms tensioning; its ravenous gaze latched on Ermyn's lips, then wandered lower and lower; its pinky tongue, slowly smacking its pale lips, curved in a lascivious, jarring smirk. There was no rush to Boggart's movements, as if it was enjoying the effect it was making on Ermyn. The girl stood there numb, clenching a wand in her hand, her knuckles white, her eyes wide and horrified.

"Oh, that's enough," said Professor Tofty softly and came forth.

_Crack!_

" _Riddikulus_!" shouted Professor Tofty and gave a dry little cough.


End file.
